


and so you were awake

by duckiesandlemons



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Confession, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckiesandlemons/pseuds/duckiesandlemons
Summary: “You didn’t think about yourself much again, did you?” Lancelot asks.





	and so you were awake

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fic written for nue! They requested SiegLan!

“They’re back, they’re back!  Get the infirmary ready!”

"Gran, how are you--”

“I’m fine, I--Siegfried, hold on!”

It’s not what Lancelot expected when Siegfried said he had been going out with Gran on a mission earlier that morning.  An easy one, one that just had them taking care of a monster’s nest a little ways into the island. Something that Siegfried had always done and come back from with little to almost no injuries--just exhaustion lining the edges of his eyes.  Now, he sees Siegfried supported by Gran and Eustace, limping onboard with his armor crushed around the shoulder and his side.

Cagliostro is storming past them, barking orders, any pretense of her personality lost in the face of being unable to heal these wounds.  

“Lancey,” Vane says, hand on Lancelot’s shoulder, “he’ll make it, okay?”

“I--yes, I’m not worried,” Lancelot tries to play it off.  He tries to not let the nervousness show on his face, tries to not let the worry eat at his stomach, but Vane only tightens the grip he has on Lancelot’s shoulder.  It is obvious he's lying through his teeth.

They both watch as Siegfried’s taken to the infirmary, drops of blood trailing on the deck of the Grancypher and Lancelot wonders what happened for them to come back like this.  Those who went out were _good_ , better than _good_ , having carried their captain through victory after victory--monster killing might as well have been child’s play to them.  Siegfried especially, having years of experience under his belt, having studied extensively on monsters and their traits and everything in between it seemed.  A bit of bitterness rises in Lancelot’s chest, the idea that if he had been there to watch Siegfried’s back things might have gone better.  He shakes his head--he can’t think like that.

This is not Feendrache, this is not when they fought back to back, nor after.

This is a skyfaring crew, this is Siegfried’s usual habit of wandering, and Lancelot cannot follow those whims.  Not unless he was brought along or asked. Still, as the day progressed and night came, Lancelot snuck out of his room and to the infirmary.  The healer on duty is Lennah, who gives him a polite smile before letting him in. She says nothing past that, pulling the curtains around the bed and heading back to checking on another crew member who slept on one of the further beds.

Siegfried is still asleep as Lancelot takes a seat on the edge of the bed.  His chest rises up and down shakily, but from the bandages wrapped around his shoulder and torso it looked as if the worst of it had past.  Lancelot, honestly, had been expecting to be chased away upon coming here as people would still be hard at work. He can only think that Cagliostro had pulled out all the stops, determined looking as she was when she had boarded.

“You didn’t think about yourself much again, did you?” Lancelot asks.  

He resists the urge to stroke Siegfried’s cheek.  A fantasy he keeps to himself once more even as he stares upon the sleeping figure of his mentor turned crush turned...Lancelot could not even put a name on it now if he tried.  He just knows that his heart has twisted his feelings for Siegfried every which way it could manage--malleable steel over the firm shield he had wished it to be. Lancelot sighs, leaning forward on his knees.

“But perhaps that sort of selflessness is what attracted me in the first place--a calm, level headed man who did not let the power of his station get to his head,” Lancelot murmurs.  “Though there were other things as the years progressed.”

Even during the days that Siegfried was not there, Lancelot saddled with the responsibilities of captain and nursing a grudge for as long as he was gone, there had been something there simmering below the surface.  It had been waiting, waiting, and after everything, even now, it pushed its way up, up, up until Lancelot found it almost hard to contain. Vane teased him for it yet at the same time encouraged him.

_You have to tell him, Lancey!  You do, before it’s too late!_

Would this be considered too late, Lancelot wonders.  Would this be considered a horrible time, with Siegfried asleep and Lancelot playing the coward?

This time he does succumb to his urges, letting his fingers tangle in Siegfried’s hair.

“Saying I love you is perhaps the hardest challenge,” Lancelot tells Siegfried’s sleeping form.

“Even more so than cleaning your room?” the words are said in jest, but Lancelot jumps at them nonetheless.  Siegfried chuckles as he opens his eyes, hand coming up to hold Lancelot’s wrist. Lancelot himself turns red--redder than he’s ever been--at the fact he’s been caught.  His words, whispered so easily in the assurance that Siegfried had been asleep, now hang in the air between them.

Lancelot swallows, “That--that is--Siegfried, how long have you been up?”

Siegfried hums, “Since you sat down.”

“I...I see.”

Lancelot clears his throat, trying to not let his embarrassment show.  Yet his face is warm and Siegfried is still holding his wrist, effectively trapping Lancelot.  

“I’ve been waiting, honestly,” Siegfried tells him.  “You are far braver than me.”

“That’s not true, it took me the thought--wait.”

Siegfried’s words register in his mind.

“Waiting...you too, then?” he asks, finally looking at Siegfried’s face.  The smile on it (soft, gentle, different from usual yet heartwarming all the same) tells Lancelot everything and the laugh that erupts from Lancelot’s throat is tremulous.  “All this time--it would have been so easy all this time,” he rasps. “Yet you had to go and almost die.”

“Wasn’t exactly on my list of things to do, I will admit,” Siegfried tells him.  “But things had happened outside of my control and I was the best to face them.”

Lancelot moves until he’s hunched over Siegfried, nose to nose, eye to eye.

“Then can I attempt this confession again in the morning when you’re walking so it can be done more formally, or may I kiss you now?”

“Both are acceptable.”

And Lancelot proceeds to do so.  He presses his lips to this foolish man’s own, embraces the reality of his dreams and thinks--

_So, this is what it tastes like, love._

 


End file.
